Let the Dead Bury the Dead
by keeperofthescarf
Summary: [Ch 3 up!] Everyone thought there would be peace after Von Bolt. Everyone thought there were no more hidden secrets of Black Hole. Everyone, of course, was wrong.
1. Prologue

It's good to be back writing again. I don't own Advance Wars, yadda yadda yadda. It's a prologue, it doesn't reveal much and it might leave you wondering what's going on or what will happen, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Remember to review, or ninjas will rip off your arms and laugh at you! And believe me, that isn't fun!

KOTS

* * *

In a darkened cell a man was sitting silently. Well... it was probably a man. Sergeant Smith of the Allied Nations Military Police Force was never truly sure. He would watch as the wretched creature would sit, immobile, for hours at a time – posture nonexistent, limbs thrown out in awkward positions – before bursting out in maniacal and throaty laughter accompanied by short staccato mumblings: "Insignificant... Mine... Everything... Take!" The loss of the man's mythic throne had wreaked havoc upon his body, and the subsequent incarceration had apparently affected his mind on a similar scale. Even if he had started out as a human, he no longer had any vestige of humanity about him.

Von Bolt.

Smith brought up the power on the lights to check on his high-profile prisoner, and watched as the ancient warrior lifted a spoonful of soup to his wrinkled lips and slurped noisily. A red trail dribbled out of the corner of the misshapen mouth, and although Smith could reason with himself and know that it was only tomato soup, it was hard to resist the mental image of blood dripping from the mouth of the man who had nearly devoured all of Wars World. He shuddered, and shook his head to try and think more clearly. Turning back down the lights, Smith convinced himself that Von Bolt posed no threat to anyone, anymore, and that the deterioration of his body would soon cause his final exit from the world. Smith kicked back in the plush leather chair (amazing, how the soldiers' quality of life improved when no funds had to be diverted to the construction of bombers and megatanks!) and prepared himself for a long night of viewing security monitors.

Von Bolt chuckled softly to himself, knowing that his feebleness was precisely what the guard had been ruminating on at that particular moment. It had been a difficult task to fake his own insanity for so long, and he could feel the physical toll that time was taking on his body now that the Black Crystals could no longer combat its endless forward march. Even if his body was weak, his mind was still strong, he gloated to himself. Soon, he would have a second chance to show the world what the Bolt Guard and their omnipotent leader were capable of.

As they had so many times over the last few days, his eyes wandered over to the only item on the small table provided inside of his cell. The piece of paper had the five hundred and forty-eight tally marks that he had daily scratched out upon it in a pencil borrowed from the guard: one and a half years, to the day, of isolation and imprisonment in this hellhole after the destruction of the Grand Bolt. It was joined by his soup spoon, which glinted as it caught the low-power fluorescent lights that illuminated the isolation ward of the prison. Von Bolt idly rotated the spoon, allowing the light to play over all of its surface. He stopped as the spoon reached the precise angle to the light to highlight the letters laser-etched subtly into its surface. "Retrieval at D+3, 0000 hours. Glory to Bolt! – K." It would only be three days more before he would leave the allied fools behind and lead a new army to reconquest and succeed where his subordinates had previously failed. Kindle had failed him in the past, but this prison was hardly a major army base. She would be well prepared for any pitiful defense the guards might muster.

Bolt grinned a demon's grin in the darkness.

* * *

In a darkened room a man was crouching silently. Quite a few men, in fact, and a few women as well. The leader, a thick and muscular behemoth hardened by years of combat, glanced down at his digital watch, the only light source visible to the hidden soldiers. He fingered the compact metallic cylinder in his left hand impatiently before glancing again at the wristwatch. The sound of footsteps outside made its way muffled through the closed door to the room, and the leader tensed up slightly. It was followed by the click of a door's unlocking. The leader nodded to his compatriots in the faint glow of the watch display, and prepared to depress the button on the cylinder, aiming towards the even now opening door.

Two dark silhouettes were framed in the doorway, unwittingly entering the trap. As the leader leaped out from behind his piece of furniture and fired, the lights came on and the previously silent room was full of screaming and pandemonium.

The lights illuminated, in addition to the two victims, the banner hanging across the chamber, reading "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY EAGLE AND SAMI," (the former of whom was now covered in a nearly-fatal quantity of silly string, the latter racked with laughter at his appearance while still shaking off the shock of the ambush) and also the well-wishers who under Max's direction had planned and waited for this moment for hours.

"Surprise!" Andy shouted as he bounded forward to give Sami a hug and shake hands with his former arch-rival. Max ambled forward as well, grinning, to help Eagle remove the mess that Max had so recently created from his face and clothing. The others made small talk among themselves as they waited for their chance to migrate through the crowd and issue their congratulations to the happy couple.

"Married a whole year... An' I thought Eagle'd never last a month o' Sundays with any landlubber lass, not to mention a Yank."

"What's a Yank, dude?"

"Somewhat derogatory term for an Orange Star citizen. Analogous to 'redneck,' but with different regional connotations."

"Ah object t'the use of 'redneck,' Your Highness. We've got a long 'n' honorable history of farmin' in Orange Star, and the sunburns ain't made a lick of difference in our intelligence."

"Orange Star? B-b-but I thought you were always a loyal son of Blue Moon!"

"Brother, you need to study your military history more. We're the only two COs that are actually from Blue Moon."

"S-s-sorry, Sis. I've still got a lot to learn."

"Where's the cake at? I created the candles for it myself! Tee hee!"

"I have a bad feeling about anything that combines Lash and fire..." Rachel said playfully while smiling at Jess. Jess nodded back with a slightly more frightened smile; the two had become roommates after Jess began Lash's lessons in etiquette, and Jess had remained with Lash since, dealing with the messes of many of Lash's... unique... military applications. Before she could continue her conversation with Jess, Rachel felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see her older sister had been standing behind her. Nell leaned in close to whisper, and Rachel's merry demeanor became serious as she realized something was up.

"I don't want to spoil the party, Sis, but we finally have information on the position of what Intel believes is the Bolt Guard's stronghold. It looks like they have significant defenses set up, and we can't rule out the possibility that they still possess Black Crystal or Oozium technology. Tomorrow morning, I want you to begin coordinating troop movements to surround their base and put us in a better bargaining position, so maybe we can force them to surrender without fighting them at all."

"Tomorrow? Why not tonight, since it's such an important mission?"

"Because the troops are already in the landers, but won't be across the sea for at least another 24 hours. Besides..."- and now Nell smirked- "Tonight you have a chance to spend some relaxed time with a certain handsome young commander," she said with a wink.

"Jake and I aren't..." Rachel blushed. "We don't... I mean... you know..."

"Who said anything about Jake?" Nell asked with a knowing smile. "I sure didn't say who it was." Rachel blushed more, but Nell was looking serious again.

"Rachel, I'm going to be honest with you. You've got to get love while you can, seize the day, things like that. I focused on my job, and I'm happpy with what I've accomplished, but there isn't a single day that I don't wonder how things might have turned out differently..." Nell trailed off. A moment later, though, a twinkle was back in her eye. "Anyway, _hodie, carpe amorem. Cras, carpe Kindlem_."

"What's that supposed to mean?"  
"It means you should pay more attention in Latin, and go talk to Jake. I'll talk to you tomorrow about the logistics for the operation, Rach!"

Nell gave her a brief hug and artfully slipped out of the room, leaving Rachel to stew in her own conflicting emotions. She saw Jake crossing the room to talk to Eagle, and swiftly intercepted him.

"Hey Jake, let's find the sound controls and really get some good music going!"

"Rock!"

* * *

In a darkened glade of a forest a man knelt silently. His broad, scarred shoulders were hunched together as he clasped his hands in some sort of prayer or meditation. He wore the rough homespun robe of the religious monks common in those parts, but rather than rocking back and forth in frenzied prayer as they were wont to do, he stayed as still as stone.

The man remained motionless for several hours, contemplating, moving only his lips occasionally, though no sound came out. Even the rise and fall of his muscular chest seemed to have stopped. The sun had set long ago, and the moonlight caught his cleanly shaved head with a smooth glow. The moon continued its slow rise, remaining the only actor in the scene to budge even an inch. Finally, he got to his feet and began the arduous trek through the thick forest back towards the only slightly more civilized Green Earth trading post from which he had fled to find some true peace and solitude. His right eye, brown, scanned the trees for any possible pitfalls as he carefully picked his way across the fallen logs. His left eye, glass, remained fixed straight ahead with its implacable and icy stare. He reached a well-beaten trail and was able to concentrate back on his own thoughts rather than pathfinding.

"_Dear, why do you have to pace so much? You're nervous enough for the both of us."_

"_I am not nervous. I simply do not like entrusting your life to these surgeons, even if they come highly recommended. Risk aversion is a natural quality in decision making."_

"_I'll be fine. Besides, highly recommended is an understatement. They're the team that worked on Father last year, and that was a much more delicate procedure."_

"_Hmm."_

The soft hoot of a horned owl sounded from somewhere above. It would have been a welcome respite from the nearly constant and monotonous drone of cicadas that pounded through the night air, but this wanderer was too lost in his own thoughts to notice. The early morning hours ticked away as he followed the path back towards civilization.

_The surgeons were whispering among themselves, but the conversation was still clearly audible to the observers at the outer edge of the surgical theater._

"_Heartrate dropping. She's having an adverse reaction to the implants."_

"_How could the implants be harmful? Get thirty cc's of diazepam in her, now."_

"_We've only done the procedure once successfully, and had two failures. I don't think it's wholly unrealistic for there to be unforeseen effects with such a small data sample to work with, and..."_

"_Less talking, more cutting! Get the implants out, we have to abort this."_

"_EKG flatlined! I don't think she's going to..."_

"_We can still save her. Start CPR and get the defibrillator ready."_

"_But in her state... the shock..."_

"_She's a strong woman, she can take it."_

The midnight blue of the sky, unspoiled by the light pollution of any large cities, was starting to give way to the lighter pastel blue of pre-dawn. No birds were chirping yet, but at least the cicadas seemed to have stopped. His left leg was in agony by now; the break hadn't been clean, and it had never been given a chance to heal properly. The traveler ignored the pain through sheer force of will and continued his silent march down both the forest path and the halls of his own memory.

"_No! Please show mercy, my lord!"_

"_Mercy? Your incompetence has resulted in nothing short of murder."_

"_We did our best, but it was highly experimental and..."_

"_No more excuses. You have failed, and the price of your failure will be great."_

"_I beg your forgiveness, my lord! I'll do anything! I'll..."_

_The voice cut off and the speaker's face twisted in pain as a powerful hand grasped his throat then shoved him roughly to the floor._

"_Take him to the Beta Sector detention center. I never want to see this man's wretched face again."_

The man shook his head wistfully as he neared the outskirts of the trading post, the sun peeking up over the roof of the blacksmith's hut. He never did see that man again, but his face still haunted his musings tonight, just as they had every night for the last twenty years. He watched the sun for a few moments as it cleared the blacksmith's and broke free from the horizon to continue its ascent. The cheerful scene before him—villagers getting ready for another day, dogs running about, chickens squawking, children chasing each other, mothers scolding and fathers laughing—contrasted with the pain still in his heart. Last night's meditative sojourn had been the conclusion of twenty years of mourning, and now another twenty could begin.

* * *

Review! Fill the form full of flaming fury, or friendly fluff! Do it for the children:) 


	2. Chapter 1: Setup and Setback

Hello Everybody! I'm trying to keep myself to a schedule of one update approximately every ten days if possible, because this avoids chapters that are unnecessarily long, hopefully keeps interest in the story more alive than it would otherwise be, and forces me to write rather than procrastinate. Plus it gives the opportunity for more reviews... er... not like I count and hoard those... (my _precious_!)

And I'm anticipating complaint about a certain character from the prologue not being mentioned again. Fear not, he shall be back in the next chapter, and things will not be so confusing anymore!

So, please review! Cheers!

KOTS

* * *

The sun broke over the horizon, illuminating the rows of fighters and stealths arrayed on the deck of the O.S.S. Indomitable, the brand-new largest ship in Orange Star's navy. She was matched only in size by her sister ship Sakura, the new flagship carrier of the Imperial navy that was sailing in parallel a thousand meters to starboard with the members of Yellow Comet and Green Earth's delegates for this mission on board. The enormous missile launchers and radar dishes on the two ships lazily rotated, searching without any real urgency for an aerial foe to annihilate. The only such foes swooping through the salty air, however, were the seagulls that circled the Indomitable, hoping to find the morsels of food so common on civilian ships.

Sasha reached into the pocket of her body-length manteau – she refused to call it a trench coat - for a piece of candy, which she then tossed to the nearest gull. As the gull hastily swallowed the sweet treat, Sasha looked out over the rippling waters of the Crimson Sea and found herself shivering. It wasn't just the cool breeze coming in from the cool sands of the pre-dawn desert, but also something more intangible, that made Sasha clutch the thin uniform even tighter around her slender form. Sasha pondered quietly as the seagulls cried and flapped about, and finally was able to put her finger on it. It was the same concern she felt for Colin whenever she was forced to watch him go into battle. _But why am I feeling it now? Colin's safe at Blue Moon HQ..._

From behind her came the heavy rhythm of thumps that footsteps make when their owner clearly doesn't care who notices his presence. Sasha turned and saw Max, the aforementioned behemoth, accompanying Jake across the deck to enjoy the same view that Sasha had arisen early to see. They were clearly just finished with a workout, as their clothes were soaked with sweat and Jake was moaning miserably about the soreness in his arms. As the two approached, they scattered the birds who stood in their path. Now Max was laughing loud enough to scare birds away from the carrier entirely.

"Next week we'll increase the reps and add a little more weight. The soreness should be gone in a couple weeks."

"Weeks!"

"Just kidding, Jake!"

Max's limitless mirth was rubbing off on Sasha, quickly dispelling her foreboding feelings. Their minds on anything but battle, the trio laughed and joked with each other, still joking half an hour later as they walked down to mess for breakfast. Listening to the laughter of her comrades, the atmosphere of friendship so filled the room that the explanation for her previous feelings occurred to Sasha. _They're like family to me now... I couldn't bear to see them be hurt in battle. They'll never take Colin's place, but they're family nonetheless. _ Sasha rolled that thought around in her mind, savoring it even more than the exquisite omelette that the head chef had prepared, knowing it was her favorite. She smiled grimly as the conversation turned to the latest intel received on the base waiting just a few miles past their current position. _You had better be careful, Kindle. There's nothing more dangerous than a family that fights together._

* * *

"This is Vermilion Leader, activating shroud and radar transponders now, over."

"Roger, Vermilion Leader. We are receiving loud and clear. Come home safely, over."

"Will do. Vermilion Leader over and out."

Each member of Vermilion Squadron, Orange Star's new elite stealth squadron, performed a barrel roll while activating their cloaking devices, becoming all but invisible as the armor's active camouflage caused it to approach transparency. Vermilion Leader, a hardened veteran of all three wars who had earned his stripes dogfighting Eagle's legendary Ragnarok Squadron, eyed the custom-made radar screen to the right of the flight stick. It plotted the positions each of his wingmates were transmitting to ensure that none of them collided in a spectacular fireball. He gave a little more to the throttle and was pleased to note that all of the squadron had noticed almost immediately and accelerated to match his pace. They were already crossing the line dividing the shallow blue waters from the harsh red sands of the desert, and the position that Intel had extrapolated from stray radio signals was only another fifteen seconds inland at the considerable speed the stealth fighters were capable of. Ten seconds... Five... Vermilion Leader pressed the only button on his flight stick, and felt the soft whirring vibrate through the craft as the panel on the underside of his plane retracted and introduced some turbulence to the otherwise totally sleek and smooth surface. ClickClickClickClickClickClick! He made a slow turn to the right as the spy camera deactivated, and after having swung through a full three-quarters arc, coming to bear down on the region from a right angle to his previous path. He reactivated the camera while diving even closer to the minor fortress that had been hiding behind a hill as they approached, but was clearly visible from this angle. ClickClickClickClickClickClick! It finally registered in Leader's brain what he was actually seeing, and he frowned as he pulled up from his low flight path.

"Leader to Two."

"Two here."

"You seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Are you seeing the biggest mess of charred scrap metal since we took out Sturm's laser?"

"Roger that. Vermilion Leader to Control – We have the pics, and good luck figuring what they mean. Deactivating shrouds and returning home."

* * *

**THREAT LEVEL 2: ENEMY AIR UNITS DETECTED.**

**LOCATION: BASE ALPHA-NULL.**

**ANALYSIS: STEALTH FIGHTERS. NO MORE INFORMATION AVAILABLE.**

**ACTIVATE DEFENSE MEASURES? Y/N.**

Kindle looked up from her breakfast of duck l'orange and a chocolate croissant when the information terminal began to beep insistently. She glanced at the screen, took a moment to push a stray hair back into its position within her notorious coiffure, and called back over the high shoulder of the throne-like chair.

"Oh, Jug-ger!"

The spherical henchman walked into the room from the adjoining command center with infuriatingly slow and jerky movements, as if he were really a robot, and one with slightly rusty joints. Kindle began to compose a haiku about the likely envoys of the detected stealth fighters. She had decided that "Rachel, the meddler" made a fitting first line when Jugger finally came to a stop before her, and droned in his colorless voice.

"Jugger is present."

"Jugger, darling, your defense system in Alpha Null has just been triggered by the Allied Nations expeditionary force in the Crimson Sea sector." Kindle paused and ran her fingers through her hair, unconsciously bracing it for what was going to happen next. "A GREAT DEAL OF GOOD IT DOES US NOW, AFTER THERE IS NO ALPHA NULL BASE IN EXISTENCE ANYMORE," Kindle screeched.

Jugger proved his considerable intelligence by remaining silent.

"What sort of defense system did you set up? One that only works after what was to be protected has been destroyed!" Kindle flung her butter knife at the hapless officer, who didn't flinch, though whether it was due to courage or poor reaction time, she wasn't sure. The knife ricocheted off Jugger's shell harmlessly, and he remained still, no worse for wear.

"Did you misplace an equal sign in your silly, worthless code? Misspell a word? Configure the automated defenses to fire on our own troops instead of the enemy's!"

Jugger's coder honor besmirched, he was forced to speak.

"Jugger's code contains no errors."

"Oh? And then how were we taken by surprise and absolutely destroyed by Black Cadre forces who sustained no casualties even though initial reports suggest they were outnumbered five to one?"

"Jugger does not attribute values to variables outside of his access. Attempts to analyze causes of opponent success yield no output at this time."

Kindle, still seething, took her fork and threw it as well, this time aiming for the less armored region of Jugger's right foot. Momentarily contented by the sight of him trying to hop on one foot in pain and failing to maintain his balance, she left to the north, striding by portraits of famous military leaders in Black Hole's history arrayed along the walls of her combination dining hall/war room. Jugger, on the other hand, exited through the south doorway, sending the nameless grunts working at the comm. arrays running to evade his bulk at it picked up speed until finally impacting a wall with a tremendous smash. Kindle resisted the urge to smile in satisfaction at Jugger's humiliation, as she considered how much more difficult their existing plan had become. The forces assigned to Von Bolt's extraction were already in place in Orange Star territory, but if something went wrong with the operation, there'd be no forces in reserve to fall back on. Getting Von Bolt was now an all-or-nothing gamble for the Bolt Guard, Kindle reasoned. _The failure of the Grand Bolt was just a fluke_, Kindle thought to herself, _but with Lord Von Bolt and the new surprises we've been planning, taking over Wars World will be pitifully easy. Even if the rabble of the Black Cadre butts its way in to our affairs now, with Von Bolt at the helm, no one can oppose us!_

Reassured, Kindle's laughter echoed through the vaulted hall.


	3. Chapter 2: Unmasked

A/N

Mmm, it's positively delicious to be writing again. My apologies for the lack of timely updating... school is rough this year, and last week was midterms. But I have a week off, and I plan to use it to the best effect possible for advancing the story. :)

Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

* * *

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

"Two beers. We don't got all day."

"Coming right up, sirs," a timid voice replied.

From his vantage point in the back corner of the tavern, the hulking man with the shaved head raised a scarred eyebrow at the two vulgar-looking men in cloaks waiting impatiently by the bar. _Nobody has any manners anymore_, he sighed to himself, and returned to reading his book in the flickering candlelight.

Three more men, equally rough-looking, entered in through the doorway, allowing some of the fierce winds from the thunderstorm raging outside to push in and gust the newspapers lying on tables about. The man in the back glanced up again from the book to assess the newcomers, but was returning to his reading when he frowned. Their posture was off for patrons, even rude ones... something didn't seem quite right about them. The two men with the beers had not yet sat down, and had shifted further away from the doorway so that all five customers now formed a rough semicircle around the bartender, whose back was to the racks of alcohol and the long mirror that seemed to be common to every bar in all Wars World. He was hardly surprised when one of the ruffians leaped over the bar, brandishing a small pistol. As the bartender turned to face him with a cry of surprise and fear, a second jumped on the other side, roughly pushing the tip of a dagger into his back, both silencing and freezing the poor soul into a trembling pose of abject terror.

"What do you want?" the little man managed to squeak out.

"Eh, I figure a couple hundred gold pieces ought to do us."

The bartender's eyes widened even further. "I barely have two dozen in the till! There's no way...!"

The leader smiled cruelly, before responding. "I guess we'll have to take everything, then, and beat the remainder out of your sorry hide." He paused as if sadistically deciding what to do, before continuing. "First, I think we'll-"

"Leave. Him. Alone."

The five thieves spun in surprise at the voice from the previously unnoticed man in the back. He rose from the chair to his imposing two meters in height, steadying himself with an arm on the chair to make up for the weakness in his twisted leg.

The leader was no longer amused. "You got a death wish, old man?"

The question was deflected. "I don't want to fight you. Leave now and you'll be uninjured."

"Don't make me laugh. You're a dead man, now."

"It won't be me who's dying today. Let him go."

Now the cruel smile was back. "Maybe you won't be the _first_ to die..." and with a quick motion, slashed across the bartender's carotid artery, sending an explosive stream of blood arcing from his neck.

Before the blood could hit the ground, the old man violently kicked his legs and jumped so that he rotated forward as if hurling a discus. The chair he had grasped with his left hand was now swinging in a wide but quick arc at the end of his extended arm, propelled by his spinning body and the tensing of his considerable biceps. Upon its release, the chair flew directly at the leader with such speed that it was a wooden-colored blur. The oaken mass crushed his target's head into the mirror, sending spiderweb-like cracks radiating out along the glassy surface and causing his lifeless body to fall in tandem with the bartender's.

"Wrong again," the old man murmured as he landed with a grimace in a crouching position. The other four were stunned for a moment, but quickly pulled out an assortment of knives and guns with which to face their opponent. The old man exploded out of his crouch to charge his enemies, and the two with guns opened fire. He was hit twice in the shoulder during the split second before he delivered a spine-snapping punch to the head of the first gunman, and without pausing spun into a kick that took the second gunman clear off his feet to impact the wall with a sickening crunch.

Without waiting to deal with the last two adversaries, the interfering Samaritan leaped over the bar to land beside the fallen bartender. He could feel his own hands tingling as he expertly ran his fingers around the jagged wound in the man's throat that was still jetting out blood. He pressed his palm across the entire wound and felt a chilling sensation run through his whole body. After the sensation passed, he lifted up his hand to find smooth pink flesh where the gaping maw had been a moment before. The warrior turned healer smiled faintly, noting that the amount of blood lost, while horrible to behold, was probably not past the fatal point, as the man's artery had only been exposed for seven seconds, at most.

The good moment was interrupted by the fiery burst of agony that erupted in his lower back, almost blinding him by the intensity of the pain. He stumbled to his feet, feeling the handle of the throwing knife that was protruding from just up and to the right of his tail bone. _Kidney hit. A typically fatal wound, _he remarked to himself with a grim satisfaction of his knowledge of mortality.

As another throwing knife embedded itself deep in his chest, he whispered to his opponents, hidden behind a mist of red, "This is the end."

Two screams of terror and a roar of rage joined the thunder piercing the night sky.

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

* * *

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

_The instructor whipped the riding crop-like instrument across his face viciously, leaving a painful swelling._

"_You'll never be a commander if you can't strike quickly and without mercy! Restart the exercise!"_

_------------------ _

"_I've never seen anyone manipulate the energy like that, light or dark! We've got ourselves an Adept, here!" The positively ancient technician was practically dancing about with joy._

"_Sonny, you've got a bright future ahead of you in the Corps."_

_------------------ _

"_So, you're the new CO from Central, eh? We've got your assignment right here. Little planet called Wars World. I think you'll fit right in."_

_The district commander tossed over a dossier. "Several continents, nice water to land ratio, plenty of natural resources, and quite vicious factional divisions... call themselves 'nations' or some such nonsense."_

_------------------ _

"_See how the marionettes dance to my tune?" The cold green eyes betrayed nothing and the mechanical voice disguised the playfully sadistic tone of the originating throat. "Worms. That's what they are. And we are the birds of prey."_

_------------------ _

"_Chance is a fickle thing, Sturm. You never know when it will come your way." A wan smile formed on his lips while he felt the energy welling up within him for a final attack._

_------------------ _

"_So... you've... seen me. Then you... hrrrnnrrr... must die."_

_------------------ __  
_

"_And to that end you feel there is some burden you must shoulder?"_

_------------------ __  
_

"_I still have... one last job. Jake. I wish I had met you... before..."_

_------------------ _

"_My God, are you alive?!" The scavenger picking through the scrap metal had nearly jumped out of his skin when the figure half buried in rubble had groaned._

"_You could... say that," he coughed out in reply, looking at the fresh wounds with his good eye, and trying not the imagine the bloody mess his other eye must have looked like._

"_I'm getting you to the local healer, pronto!"_

"_Don't... forget my... chair."_

"_Buddy, you got a lot more problems than keeping your matching furniture set. What the hell were you doing out here, trying to get a CO's autograph?"_

"_I like... your humor. But don't forget the chair."_

_------------------ _

_The old monk raised his head from the tea he had been preparing. "You've had time enough for your mourning, son. We have things to do today."_

"_No. Let me mourn my dead in peace."_

"_Let the dead bury the dead; we concern ourselves with helping the living."_

"_You cannot know what it's like to lose everyone you've cared about, you celibate old fool."_

"_I lost a brother and two nephews to the war, Lord Hawke, so you can rest assured that I know exactly how you feel. Now quit your self-pitying nonsense and eat your breakfast. Just because you've saved Wars World twice doesn't mean you get to sit back and let the rest of your life waste away. There's always a little more good to do out there."_

_------------------ __  
_

"_Leave him alone."_

"_You got a death wish, old man?"_

"_I don't want to fight you..."_

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

* * *

_------------------ _

_------------------ _

Hawke opened his eyes to a painfully bright blue sky full of sun with a few clouds. _Eyes?_ He closed first the right, then the left. He had perfect vision in both. _And that means..._ He sat up, the powerful abdominal muscles effortlessly lifting the top half of his body from his supine position. He ran his fingers along his arms and legs. All of the scars were gone. The formerly twisted leg seemed pristine, and the bones were perfectly aligned. Hawke grimaced. _I triggered the Black Storm. I've been totally healed._ He looked around himself, where the debris from the tavern's total annihilation was strewn about. A few dozen yards beyond this field of debris was another region, where the general store had been located. Also leveled, but much more matter had actually survived. The wood of the tavern walls had been largely vaporized, if the scorch marks on the stone foundation were any indication. Beyond the general store were most of the villagers' homes, which were all still standing, though appearing a little worse for wear. 

Hawke found the bartender lying as he had been left, breathing shallowly, but looking a great deal better than he had the night before. _You're lucky that even in my rage I considered you an ally_, Hawke mused, knowing the other man couldn't possibly hear his inner thoughts. The fact that the man was naked troubled Hawke slightly, and it occurred to him that he himself was also in the nude.

Having observed the situation carefully, he commenced to berate himself.

_You are a true idiot, triggering a Black Storm blindly like that. Not only have you vaporized your own clothing, but the most effective disguise imaginable, a broken body, has just been reverted back to normal. You knew there are ways for your enemies to track the Black Storm, but you had to go and be the hero yet again..._

Hawke shook his head. It had been a year and a half since his purported death, after all. Maybe he was long forgotten by anyone who had been friend or foe to the Black Cadre. And surely no one would continue a fruitless search for him for this long. It was highly doubtful anyone would persevere in the search for him with such diligence as to be monitoring energy sensors all the time, waiting for so subtle an energy surge as a localized Storm...

The staccato rhythmic sound of T-copters in the distance seemed to arrive specifically to mock him.

_Or perhaps someone is both _very_ diligent and _very_ observant, and I am still just a fool._

Hawke sprinted for the tree line at the edge of the woods to watch from concealment.


	4. Chapter 3: Reunion, Reaction, Revelation

A/N – Hello all, and thanks to everyone who has read, and especially reviewed, so far. I'm trying to update as often as possible, but when you're a full-time university student who's also working part-time on the side, finding time to write can be rough. I hope you're all enjoying the story, but if you're not, the only way to change it is to REVIEW. Please, I want to know just like anyone else what needs improvement. Compliments are not wholly undesirable either :) but I'd rather get flames than silence, really!

Enjoy!

KOTS

P.S. - I stole AWBMatt's scene change notation, cause I liked it. I never owned Advance Wars, but I sure wish I did. Then I'd have the movie rights:)

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C

The helicopter set down gently, indicating setdown not with the vicious jolt typical of clone pilots whose memory imprinting process was rushed, but signifying the end with only a soft beep from a control panel in front of a pilot who had seen many years of service.

"Hey Adder, are we there yet?"

"As much as I would like to reply in the negative for the four hundred and ssseventieth time, we are actually 'there.'"

"Oh, good."

"I don't sssee what's so good about it. For all we know we're flying into a trap. But on the small chance it's not, it could make all the difference between victory and defeat."

"If anyone tries to catch us in a trap, I'll just sm-"

"Smash 'em good. Yesss, I know." The dark eyes rolled. "Just promissse me that you won't do anything hasssty when we get out of the copter. Please?"

"Sure thing, Adder."

B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C-B-C

Hawke watched with narrowed eyes at the black T-copter whose blades were beginning to slow down. _Black T-copter. Either Allied special forces or Bolt Guard._ The door in the side slid open, and two armored men with cannons grafted onto their arms stepped out, their faces obscured by the dark helmets encasing their heads. _Bolt Guard it is. And I do not even have enough energy left for a Black Wave._ Hawke moved so that his back was to the tree, obscuring his body from view. _Now to hope they do not have thermal imaging._

As he waited in hiding, barely breathing, the crunching sound of feet on gravel mingled with voices became louder and more distinct.

"I have an idea, you sssaid! We'll go to a tropical island with no communication with the outssside world, you sssaid! We can't relaksss if we go somewhere the Bossss can contact us, you sssaid! A fine vacation, indeed!"

"It was pretty relaxing, though."

"And we misssed an entire war and the downfall of Black Hole!"

"Well, _I_ had fun. You always focus on the negative."

"The negative?! The negative?! We're ssstuck without troops, without territory, without our leader, hated by everyone everywhere, and you think I'm focusing on the negative?!"

"Uh... I don't think those are _positives_."

"I! You! Arrrghhh!"

Hawke couldn't believe his ears. Of all the people to come out here to investigate his whereabouts, it had to be these two incompetents. He sighed and poked his head around the tree trunk to greet them, and immediately two laser sights were painted on his forehead.

"Hold your fire!" he cried, ducking back.

"Aaaagh!" Adder screamed, spinning to put Flak's bulk between himself and a threat.

"Aaaagh!" Flak screamed, having no idea what was going on, but feeling intense peer pressure to add to the cacophony.

"Complying, sir," the monotone voices of the soldiers replied in unison, having instantly recognized the voiceprint of their commander.

After the initial moment of shock wore off, Flak's cry of confusion turned to one of joy. "Boss? Boss! It's you! Now we can smash stuff again!" Flak bounded around the tree and effortlessly lifted the hapless commander off the ground and into a crushing bear hug.

"Er... it is a pleasure to see you again as well, Flak. Flak? You may put me down now. Flak?" A sigh of frustration. "I hope you do not mind if I borrow your jacket. It is rather cool weather today."

"Huh?" It dawned on Flak that the recipient of his ardent embrace was in the nude. "Aagh! Yeah, Boss, here you go." Flak set Hawke down and pulled off the gigantic garment for Hawke's use.

"Thank you," Hawke murmured.

"Well. Dessspite how long it'sss going to take to heal the mental ssscarring of what I have just witnessssed, it is good to sssee you again, my lord."

"Hello, Adder."

Adder's slender face became serious, concluding the pleasantries. "Care to tell usss why you are out in the Green Earth countryssside after over a year of absssenssse from Black Hole?"

"I doubt you would believe me."

"Try me. I jussst ssspent three hours in a copter with Flak in the hopesss that we'd find you."

Hawke looked off into the distance, his eyes seeming to glaze over. "I... I am tired of war."

"What?"

"I am tired of killing... power struggles... pain and confrontation. No more Von Bolts. No more Sturms. I came to a place where I thought no one could find me, so that I would never have to fight again."

Adder seemed taken aback by such a response, but forged forward anyway. "Well, I sssuggessst you come out of retirement and join usss again, because war is going to find you sssooner or later, no matter where you hide."

Hawke turned to look at his former lieutenant. "What do you mean? There has been nothing but peace interspersed with short mop-up operations for the Allied Nations during the past year. If you aspire to reconquer the allies, I'll have no part of it."

"Unfortunately, the Bolt Guard has been ssstrengthened a thousandfold since the end of the war. I know not how, but it probably involves more black cryssstals. What matters is that their army is vassst, and the pitiful force that Flak and I managed to amassss upon our returning to Black Hole is on the verge of being totally annihilated. After we are out of the way, it takes no geniusss to figure out where they will go next."

Flak chimed in. "I bet it's the Allied Nations, since they have most of the money and resources and stuff."

"Sssee?" Adder asked, rolling his eyes.

Hawke looked away again to consider.

_-You vowed you'd never fight again. You are done with war and bloodshed._

_-You broke that vow last night to save the bartender. Sometimes, you must fight to stop evil._

_-The only evil is that which endangers your welfare, and you will be safe out here. Let your former comrades and the allies fend for themselves._

_-Maybe you believed that once, but you have changed, and you know it. Defeating evil is the burden you chose to shoulder when you turned your back on Black Hole and deposed Von Bolt._

Hawke sighed quietly as his conscience won yet another battle against reason. "Where is your center of command, Adder?"

"At the old outpossst in the Zutara Mountains, wessstern Yellow Comet."

"You can enter and exit the area without being detected?"

"Sssonja has been busy of late tracking the Bolt Guard. She's moved her blasssted recon units to Omega Land and has few observation posssts in the area."

"Very well. Let's see just what Kindle and her ilk are up to, shall we?"

Flak, who had been studying his fingernails most intently throughout the conversation, jumped up from the log he was sitting upon with glee. "We're gonna go smash stuff now?"

"Yes, Flak. If Adder's report is correct, I believe we will."

-A-N-A-N-A-N-A-N-A-N-A-N-A-N-A-N-

"Somebody laid a major smackdown here. Actually, forget major. Try colonel. Or... what comes after colonel?"

"We get the idea, Jake."

"Rock on."

Sasha picked her way carefully over the twisted metal debris littering the shallow desert sand. It was hard enough to do it when she could use her arms for balance, but constantly returning the salutes of the soldiers that passed her made it even more of a trial. The winds were already beginning to bury the smaller objects in shifting dunes, indicating that the battle must have been especially recent to have so have so many objects remaining in plain sight. It also made walking especially treacherous since shards of metal could lie in wait just beneath the surface. She approached her fellow female CO in the investigation team, wishing for the other's khaki uniform rather than her oppressively heavy Blue Moon uniform. The Yellow Comet military, while not especially suited for desert warfare, were much more acclimated to it than their northern allies, and they actually had the foresight to design uniforms suitable to a greater range of climates than "snowing" to "blizzard."

"Anything out of the ordinary, Sonja?"

"You mean other than the remains of a massive land and air battle around a minor base in the middle of nowhere, and that Kindle's army has no enemies in Wars World yet was decisively defeated by someone?"

"Slow down a little, Sonja. How do you know it was an air battle as well?"

Sonja pointed to the billowing black columns rising from isolated points along the plain. "You can smell it from the burning fuel. Some of it is ordinary gasoline and engine oil, but there's a large quantity of jet fuel burning as well in this mess. It's a subtle difference in aroma, but there are definitely some copters or jets crashed out there among the tanks."

"And you know that this was Kindle's base that was attacked because...?"

"We had the intel that Bolt Guard forces were using this base as a supply depot or possibly even headquarters. We initially came here to destroy it, remember?"

"Right, right. So who attacked them first, and why?"

"Your guess is as good as mine, right now. I guess it's possible that Adder is out of hiding and has access to intel, manpower, and supplies that Lash doesn't, and was able to continue the war against the Bolt Guard. There's no way Flak could manage battles on this scale, and we don't know of any other commanders, not to mention ones that would bear a grudge against the Bolt Guard. Could there be more Black Cadre commanders that neither we nor Lash know about?"

"Seems unlikely. Lash has been a great source of Black Hole intel for us; if she doesn't know about any other commanders, it's hard to imagine any exist."

"Indeed, it is quite a mystery. We'll have to keep our eyes on the ball to solve this one."

"Dame Sonja! I have found a spoil of great interest and beauty!" Javier's great voice boomed from where he stood a little behind them, interrupting their brainstorming session. They saw him bend down to pick up a fragment of something that glinted in the light with a triumphant look on his face. As he straightened, he shouted, "It appears to..." His voice faltered and his grin faded. "Be a..." he managed to get out. "Shard..." He collapsed as if he had just been shot with a tranquilizer or stun gun.

"Javier!" Sonja and Sasha cried.

They dashed over to where he lay, the mystery item still lying in his palm. Sasha got on her knees to check his pulse, and Sonja swiftly kicked his hand, sending the crystalline piece flying out of it. Immediately his eyelids fluttered and he uttered a low moan, not moving. Sasha turned to Sonja worriedly.

"What happened to him?"

"Black crystal poisoning. A good piece of black crystal can kill entire forests in a matter of weeks. It doesn't take long to kill a man."

"Oh no, Javier! He's going to live, right?"

Sonja responded as she put her head to his chest to listen to his breathing and examined his eyes closely.

"Of course. He'll be fine with a few days rest. This is much more serious than I thought, though. We need to get a full hazmat team in here, one that specializes in black crystal cleanup. We could be at great risk if there are similar shards scattered throughout this area. And, knowing how volatile those crystals are when damaged, it's quite likely."

Soldiers who heard the two women's cry had arrived on the scene and were lifting Javier up to take to the medic's tent. Sonja pulled a small but powerful communicator from a pocket on her uniform, opening it up and pressing a button to transmit.

"Lash, come in."

"Hey, Sonja, what's up?"

"We're investigating the base area and we found a piece of black crystal. Javier's been poisoned by it."

"I hope his silly mustache falls out. I can't stand that thing!"

"Lash!"

"Right! Um... I'll send a medical team and black crystal specialists out right away?"

"That's more like it. Please come with them, there's sure to be a lot of evidence out here that you can decipher better than anyone else, given your knowledge of Black Hole weaponry."

"We'll be there in no time. Toodles!"

K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M-K-W-M

"...Toodles!"

The audio receiver emitted a soft ping to indicate the end of the transmission. A soft alto voice resumed where Lash's screeching had been a moment before.

"Hmmm. You're clearly losing your touch, my dear Sonja. It would have taken only another minute to get back to headquarters and send an encrypted message, but you've had to go and take all the fun out of it by broadcasting in plain earshot for everyone."

A second voice interrupted the apostrophic taunting, with a note of hopeful and sadistic glee in it.

"Seems to me this is an excellent chance to assassinate Lash en route and get that thorn out of the way early."

"Yes, I imagine it _would_ seem to you. Do any of your plans not involve assassination and mindless violence, Wraith?"

Wraith remained silent.

"Oh, don't pout. You know it's true. You want to kill all of the enemy COs almost as much as I do."

If the meeting chamber had been better lit, an evil sparkle would have been seen in the speaker's eyes.

"..._Almost_ as much," she repeated, continuing. "But I have the patience to ensure that not only do they die their well-deserved deaths, but that they do it in the most satisfyingly tormenting manner possible."

"So how do we proceed now, O Great and Tormenting One?"

"We will stick to the original plan: ignore the Allied Nations for now, and make sure that all of Black Hole's considerable resources are securely under our control, or neutralized. Michael will now take over dealing with Von Bolt and his pitiful followers. I'm reassigning you to a target actually worthy of your skills."

"I doubt there's _any_ target worthy of my skills," Wraith commented dryly.

"Not even... Lord Hawke?"

Wraith took a moment to speak. "Hawke is dead. No one could have survived the collapse of Von Bolt's Citadel."

"Ah, but _someone_ did. And _he_ is your target."

Wraith paused before continuing, not asking the many questions coursing through her mind. "And my objectives?"

"Track Lord Hawke from the coordinates I will provide you with, and observe everything you can about him. I want to know his physical and mental condition, general plans, strategies, and anything else of interest. Prevent him, under any circumstances, from contacting the Allied Nations. Though the Black Cadre and Bolt Guard would have no interest in alliance with the allies due to their war criminal status, Hawke has historically been proven to work with the allies when it is to his benefit. We can't let him discover us and warn the allies too early."

"Your wish is my command, Lady Katherine."

Katherine smiled sardonically, knowing that even in the pitch-black room, Wraith would be able to see it. "I've told you a dozen times, Wraith, you don't have to be so formal..."

"...Just call me Kat."


End file.
